Wendy M. McDonald claims she once got in trouble for reading in class. She spent her childhood wishing she could be Turtle Wexler, Harriet M. Welsch, Meg Murry, or Lucy Pevensie. Trapped in reality, she instead concocted bizarre stories with her spelling words and wrote abysmal poetry.
During high school and college, her poetry matured and darkened, until a classmate demanded, "Do you always have to write about death?" after Wendy read her poem about chairs.
When not penning darkish stories in the garret of her New England home, Wendy watches science fiction, fantasy, dark comedy, and animated shows with her geeky husband, argues with her beagle, knits socks and fingerless mitts, and generally acts like a dork. She is the proud mom of twins who are both in art school in the greater Boston area, and who have excellent taste in music.
Since March of 2020, she has not made any sourdough bread or helped Taylor Swift re-record any albums. However, in-between freelancing gigs, Wendy did manage to clean and reorganize the basement, sew a bunch of masks and a pair of Star Wars leggings, and successfully grow tomatoes
and cucumbers in the backyard.
Her short stories appear in two anthologies: Chaosium’s Once Upon an Apocalypse (“Mary Had a Little Limb”) and Firsts: The Writers’ Loft Anthology (“First Comes Love”). She also has two poems in Friends and Anemones: Ocean Poems for Children. Neither poem is about death—at least, not obviously.
Copyright 2021 • Pam Vaughan